


Walls

by damedeleslac



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damedeleslac/pseuds/damedeleslac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We put up walls, to see who knocks them down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We were all new once.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Just playing.

Walls.

 

 

One… We were all new once.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Liz opened her eyes wide, fighting off the yawn she knew was inevitable.

“Tired newbie?” Her somewhat amused partner held out a cardboard cup.

“I was up before 5…” Liz glanced at her watch, as she accepted the offering, “Yesterday, one of my neighbour’s decided to have a screaming match with his parrot.”

Darren reached over and twisted her arm to read the clock face. “Not even 22hrs yet. You got no stamina. What is it with young people these days?”

“Saving themselves for the weekends,” Liz eyed Darren and the coffee suspiciously, “You remember the sugar?”

“You’re the only person…” Darren shook his head, hiding a smile, “Strongest stuff they got, sugar; 4 or 5 packets of the real stuff and half of regular milk. You've only told me a few hundred times.”

He let his attention turn back to the rain drenched streets and dark apartment buildings.

"Lemme guess. Nothing?"

Liz blew on her coffee. "A parade needs to pass through for there to be nothing."

***

Darren settled back into his seat and studied his partner. Liz was a sort of penance he supposed.

After the _Joker Fiasco_ , Gordon had given him, and about 24 other detectives a choice. More negligent then corrupt in comparison to many in the Gotham City Police Department, Darren and his colleagues; all about 6 or so years from mandatory retirement, would be getting new partners; rookies from other cities or ex-military newbies.

Their survival; their successes, would mean the difference between a police pension or the new title of 'Rent-a-Cop". Not that Darren had any problems working with a woman, but Liz was only 29; he had a daughter older than her. And she'd been in Gotham for less than a year.

***

He'd picked her file randomly, sliding it out from the middle of the pile. Elizabeth 'call me Liz'  Munroe had skipped the 5th grade; graduated high school early, spent her 18 months of college studying everything and then joined the Navy. A friend had said that her Honourable Discharge had come with a note about 'compassionate reasons'; Darren hadn't asked what he'd meant. She'd travelled for four years, worked in a Sherriff’s Department for three and then applied to the GCPD. The newbies and rookies were known, in an almost friendly manner, as 'Gordon’s Pet Detectives'. Liz was one of the few who the older detectives grudgingly accepted and Darren was going to make damn sure she was around to plan his retirement party.

***

Liz yawned again as Darren glanced back out at the buildings.

"This bites." He muttered.

"Babysitting the grandson again?" She smiled as she asked.

"Kids got a vocabulary better than a sailor."

Liz snorted.

"I doubt that," She put her hand on the door handle, releasing the latch, "I need to take a walk."

"What if someone sees you?"

"Then I'll put on my best PMS face, use all the words I learnt from my Drill Sergeant," Liz pulled a leash from her caot pocket, "And threaten to kill the damn dog."

 

<><><><><><>

 

The explosion was loud and hot.

A bright burning flash that blew out the windows and made the buildings shudder.

The three addicts; with half a brain cell, half a chemistry degree between them, a condemned building full of meth fumes and an open flame, never knew what hit them.

The lady looking for her dog wasn't so lucky.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.”

-          _Anonymous._


	2. Chapter 2

 

Walls

 

 

 

 

Two... These are the words I have.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jim Gordon stood on the police side of the crime scene tape. Joseph Darren stood next to him, scowling at the crowds the uniformed officers were keeping to the other side of the streets.

"Vultures," Gordon glanced in the direction Darren was glaring, "News at 6, Cop gets blown up."

Gordon sighed, silently agreeing with Darren's sentiments, and asked. "What happened?"

“I already told Miller-"

"I want to hear it from you."

Darren glanced at the news crew, then back at Gordon.

"Liz was doing a walk by, to try and wake up. She'd been awake for almost a day and in the car since 8:30," Darren shrugged, "I'd been out a few times; coffee, bathroom breaks. The car’s parked in an alley along side the next building; with the shadows, you can't see it. There's a pizza place at the other end of the ally. Perfect spot."

"So she took a walk?" Gordon prompted.

"Apartment block was quiet. Too quiet, if you’ll excuse the cliché. She had a dog lead, like she was looking for a runaway."

“And the explosion?"

"More than 10 minutes, less than 20. She could've gone to the bathroom first," Darren sighed, "It was after 2 in the morning, supposed to snow later; all the little muggers and rapists are in their beds. I thought she'd be safe."

He shuddered. "I hate explosions. Judges cars, hospitals, ADA's. Makes a person want to hide under his bed."

Darren had stopped watching the crowd, was starring at a point in the road.

"Liz was off the pavement. Her jacket was smouldering; She must've rolled and put the flames out. I made sure she breathing, then I called it in. There was blood… and scratches... the glass from the windows across her face, the buttons on her shirt and the leash were soft, like they'd started to melt. The flash was so hot, you could see where she'd put her arm up to protect her face," Darren ran his hand along the left side of his jaw, "Her skin was red/white/red."

"Alright," Gordon nodded, his expression sympathetic, "Do you know which Hospital she went to?"

"Yeah, St Theresa's."

"Nothing much more will happen tonight. Get yourself home after you check on your partner."

 

<><><><><><> 

 

Penelope Dubois pulled out the filing cabinet draw with a clang and a sigh, immediately searching for Munroe, Elizabeth and wishing that the department had the budget to go fully digital. It was thinner than most in the draw; stuck almost all the way in the back, wedged between Munroe, Alberta and Munroe, Xavier.

The _In Case of Emergency_ section contained a single phone number, without a name or an address. Penelope didn't recognise it as Liz's or Darren's. She couldn't get a name through the reverse phone directory, her friend at the phone company or her 9 year old nephew.

"Shit," Penelope swore, picking up the phone "I hate this fucking job."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 


	3. Friends

  

  **Walls.**  


 

 

Three... Friends.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gordon smiled at the two detectives, handing them fresh cups of coffee as thanks for standing watch.

"How is she?" He asked.

Francine Delaney and Warwick Meyer glanced at each other before Delaney answered.

"Stable Sir, They have her sedated for now," She sipped her coffee. Gordon recognised the look of relief on her face. Coffee was on of the few substances cops were allowed to get addicted to and the good stuff was always appreciated, "But Liz has a pretty hard head."

Gordon’s eyebrow twitched upwards in surprise, most of the detectives stuck to last names. "Liz?"

Delaney grinned, punching a fist into the air. "Girlpower, Sir."

Meyer rolled his eyes at his partners antics. "Also, Munroe has a visitor."

"Penelope finally find a name to go with that number?"

Meyer shook his head.

"Said that not even her nine year old nephew; who we should probably be arresting later, couldn't find anything. She gave up trying and left a message about forty minutes ago," He shrugged, "Wayne's been in there for almost ten."

"Wayne?" Gordon's voice rose in disbelief, then lowered again, "Bruce Wayne is Detective Munroe's emergency contact?"

Delaney shrugged.

"Looked like the phone woke him up. Didn't stop to shave or grab matching socks. But," she reached down, holding up an older style answering machine, the cord plugged in at the wall "He did have the message Penelope left."

Gordon glanced at the tape player, then back at Delany. A bemused expression on his face.

"His socks didn't match?"

"No Sir."

"You're keeping an eye on him?' Gordon nodded at the door behind Meyer.

Meyer stepped aside, revealing a small window. Gordon could see the sleeping form of Liz Munroe and Bruce Wayne, slumped in one of the visitor's chairs.

"Commissioner? Do we know what happened yet?"

Gordon turned back to the detectives.

"Three meth heads and a poorly ventilated drug lab. Munroe was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"No crazy freaks then?" Meyer seemed relieved.

"You two get home. Nobody's going to be blown up again tonight."

 

<><><><><><> 

 

Bruce Wayne wasn't exactly a stranger. Everyone knew of 'Gotham's Playboy Prince', but Gordon could still remember the shocked ten year old boy he'd wrapped in his father's coat and the boy pretending to be a man, at Joe Chill's parole hearing.

Gordon wondered if anyone else realised that the 'Playboy Prince'; who absconded with Russian ballerinas and crashed Lamborghinis , was just an act.

A role that everyone expected him to play.

A man (not the boy Gordon remembered) hiding behind a drunken fop.

*

"...Commissioner..." Bruce sounded more than half asleep, waking up just enough to acknowledge the other man.

"Mister Wayne," Gordon sat in the rooms other chair, "I'm going to sit here for a while, if you don't mind the company?"

Bruce stretched out his legs, revealing one navy blue sock and one pale grey sock, sinking further into the uncomfortable chair.

"Liz...?"

"Go back to sleep Mr Wayne. You can tell me how you know Detective Munroe later."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted (7 chapters) on FF.net and slowly being edited and re-posted here.


End file.
